It’s gross and definitely not a good idea when it means I’ll need to wash the entire bed in the morning, but I’m tired too. I want to sleep.
“Alright. Here, give me the toy.”
Landon obeys, and I toss it onto our dirty clothes, already feeling guilty for the amount of cleanup we’re going to wake up to.
As I shift off of him, Landon sits up and then slides under the covers, sighing once more as I wrap my arms around him.
“I like falling asleep smelling like you,” he confesses, sinking further into my embrace.
And that part of me that never thought I’d feellove, true and genuine, retreats until it no longer exists. Until all that is left is Landon and me, right here, so close we might as well be one.
Extensions of one another—two halves of the same whole.
My heart thunders, my body dragging me off to sleep even as I light the room with bright stars.
Justice and revenge never felt as good as this does.
Maybe I was never meant to be a repressor. Maybe I was never meant to protect the world at all.
I’m starting to think, firmly and absolutely, that all I’m meant to do is belong right here with my new family, as I covet the precious man in my arms.
Feral dogs can love too, can’t they?
Landon
27
THE WAREHOUSE SMELLS OFdirt and blood as I cry out, my body shaking against the blunt force of the steel rod.
Joseph smirks, slamming it down against my thigh as I choke on my own blood. “Tell us, Landon. If you give up your uncle, we will set you free.”
But I won’t, and I think they know that. I think theyknowtorturing me is pointless, yet they’re enjoying it anyway.
“S-stop,” I plead, but my coercion has been forced down into the pit of my stomach, and I can’t access it.
“You know what to say to make it stop,” Boston chimes in just before his fist connects with my jaw.
“Tell us, or I’m bringing in backup,” Joseph informs me, and I glare, unwilling to show them weakness. To give in.
They can have my blood if they want it, but I won’t surrender anything else.
“Very well,” Cecilia says calmly. “Bring him in.”
Him?Why does that sound terrifying? Who are they hiding behind these dusty shelves?
I need to hold out. Someone is coming; I know plenty of people who would come to my rescue. My family, the police, andNate.
“Landon.”
I must have conjured him from the depths of my mind, because that’s Nate’s voice, isn’t it?
But he’s not smiling at me. He’s not acting like a hero. NO, he’s holding a gun, resting the muzzle against my forehead.
“Nate?” I whisper, yanking at my restraints. “What are you doing?”
“Where is he?” Nate demands, and I shrink into the chair.
He looks beautiful, even now, but he doesn’t look likemyNate. No, he looks like that man I first met in the Chastain Castle kitchen. He looks resentful and annoyed.
